Fragile
by Kailey Hamilton
Summary: Even the haughty Malfoys are afraid, though they can only afford to tell their fears to each other. Even the haughty Malfoys rely in the power of love to pull through after the War. Slightly fluffy Lucius/Narcissa. One-shot. Written for FrenchGinger, for the Guilty Pleasure Fic Exchange on the HPFC forum.


**_Disclaimer:_**_ The Potterverse isn't mine, as you very well know. Additionally, I took lyrics from a song that isn't mine either (Make it Go, by Kina Grannis) as requested by the person I'm writing this for._

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Fragile

Outside, birds were chirping. Trees stood in their full majesty - their branches were softly swinging in the breeze as if flaunting their greenness, while colorful flowers showed off their blooming grace. The blue sky seemed to impose itself on everything that was underneath it. Fluffy white clouds came and went under a sun that shone bright and strong.

It was decidedly a lovely summer afternoon.

Inside, mother and son couldn't be woken up from their haze. The days seemed routinely and dull. The Manor, once the liveliest place among the wizarding élite, now reeked of darkness and memories that would chase them to their graves. Their faces never showed a hint of a smile, not even when pardoned of their war crimes and they found a hint of hope.

The head of the family had poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey on the rocks. He couldn't bring himself to sit on his favorite armchair, for the Dark Lord had sat on it countless times. He was now sitting on the front porch, having a quiet drink away from that overwhelming atmosphere.

"Firewhiskey. Who would've thought," he told himself, and let out a low chuckle. Lucius Malfoy was a man of action, not of drinking and letting his life go by. He didn't even like Firewhiskey, and here he was, emptying the contents of his most expensive bottle.

As soon as they had been acquitted, he'd donated ridiculous amounts of money, not only to St. Mungo's like he used to, but also to Hogwarts, for its reconstruction. All of it under Draco's name. Nobody liked Lucius anymore, or had any faith in him. But Narcissa had saved the Potter boy's life and earned a place in many people's good will. As for Draco, he was still young. He could still earn what his father had lost.

He loved them both dearly. Oh, how much he loved them! Narcissa's warm body against his own was what he missed the most on his stay in Azkaban. They'd known each other for thirty-five years, so he couldn't remember or imagine his life without her. In Azkaban, he'd done it all so they let him keep one memento of her - that bracelet she'd made for him when they were still in Hogwarts. He was wearing it that day, though he seldom wore it. Nevertheless, he always made a point of having it on when he was away from her.

And Draco! He couldn't forget his son. How frantically he'd searched for him at that last battle, when he didn't know whether he was dead or alive! He was always tough on Draco. He knew the boy had it in him - the brains, the power, the talent. But none of that mattered when his life was in danger to begin with.

Without them, his whole life was a lie. Yet, he'd never told them he loved them.

"How could I go so long and not let them know?" he wondered, not for the first time. Ever since the war ended, he'd faced the man in the mirror and realized something was wrong. Deeply wrong. He just didn't know what it was. He knew those two people were what mattered the most to him - more than legacy, social status, or any stupid cause. That's all he knew.

He'd always tried to become the best husband and father he could be, but something had just not worked.

"There you are," said a soothing voice.

He turned around and examined its source. Narcissa was a formidable woman, of proud, beautiful features and a mighty demeanor. In spite of her sternness, everything about her seemed to turn sweet and gentle when she addressed him. That was Narcissa - the soft strength behind his self-assurance. The wind that pushed the waves to the shore.

She didn't say anything else, probably waiting for him to start conversation. But he didn't, and so, they enjoyed the silence.

"What's on your mind?" She finally asked. He was glad she did - no one else had ever gotten to hear his deepest, darkest thoughts. No one but Narcissa. It was never easy to express things in words, so he took his time to talk.

"Was this worth it, Cissy? This whole war? Our involvement in it? Our support for...?"

"Are you ashamed that you fought for what you believed in?"

"That's the thing. What difference does it even make? When I joined... we were young when this all started and we simply kept going along with it. Yet, seventeen years ago, I was glad to see him gone. When He came back, I returned to him out of fear. Then I dragged Draco into it. Something went wrong, Cissy, and I don't know what."

It felt good to confess this to the one person who wouldn't judge.

"You must know Draco and I are very proud of you." He scoffed at her words. "We are, Lucius. You always manage to adapt to a situation and pull the right strings, and you're doing it wonderfully."

He didn't have anything to answer to that, so he just took a sip from his drink. She leaned her head against his shoulder. He more than welcomed her gesture. She was the only one in that family who could easily show her feelings. Lucius was raised to suppress them, and so he'd done with Draco.

"What's on your mind?" it was his turn to ask.

"Nothing, dear. I'm just out on the porch with my husband, enjoying a lovely afternoon."

He chuckled and raised an eyebrow. Lucius Malfoy knew his wife, and by the way she was reaching for his affection he knew something was bothering her. He also knew her enough to know exactly what.

"You're worried sick about Draco, aren't you?"

This seemed to make her explode.

"Yes. I am. He's been through so much and... and he's not you. He can't just recover. These last few years have been such a nightmare and it's over, yet it's not over. And he was just a boy, for Merlin's sake, and he thought he wanted this but... Lucius, he's in so much pain and I can do nothing. I hoped that somehow my love might make it go. But it didn't. I don't know what to do."

Love making things go. That was a concept that seemed foreign to him. Yet there was Narcissa, resting her head on his shoulder and making him feel a bit better about life, even when she was voicing fears that were also his.

"Draco will snap out of it. He will be fine. He's not me, but I didn't raise a weakling either" he said to soothe both of them. Draco wasn't as strong as him, but on a brighter note Draco hadn't killed like he had. Maybe he'd have a better life and wouldn't make the same mistakes.

"It's not that simple. Draco is... well, these last few years... I can't -" she was now making no sense, and Lucius needed her to stop, for her sake. Nothing was worse than seeing someone so strong so petrified. Definitely not his Narcissa.

"They're over, Cissy. It's all over now and it's useless for us to lament the past."

She let a few seconds pass before talking. She seemed to recover her composure, to his relief.

"Yet here you are, Lucius, drinking Firewhiskey and telling me about how this war was absolutely useless."

"Yes, I do recall. Well, I'm a hypocrite that wants to see his wife happy." He retorted, which prompted her to let out a sad smile. He raised his hand to caress her face. Narcissa didn't break down easily, and the sole echo of her broken sentences made him even more certain that something was out-of-place.

"Lucius, let me see your hand more closely."

He frowned in confusion and raised his sleeve. Around his wrist was a simple bracelet, the only accessory he used other than his wedding ring and his cane.

The one he'd kept in Azkaban to remind himself of her.

"You kept it." She smiled. The story of the bracelet was quite childish. When he had become prefect in his fifth year, she'd made him a friendship bracelet out of sober green and silver thread. Upon receiving the gift, Lucius had scoffed and rolled his eyes. Friendship bracelets were such a girly fad, he thought.

Thirty years later, he still wore it.

"Not the classiest accessory, but I guess it's alright" he said in a lighthearted tone. To his surprise, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He slipped his hand up to her jaw and turned his face, meeting her on another kiss with his lips. She responded enthusiastically, as this was the first time they'd kissed in months. It was so intense that Lucius could swear he saw sparkles behind his eyes, like he did when they were only teenagers and nothing else mattered.

He leaned back to reality at the feel of her hand against his chest. Under his examining gaze, Narcissa's eyes shone even brighter and stronger than the sun, so the perfect afternoon was mere background for her beauty. It was then he realized that everything could be wrong, but there was at least one thing that was absolutely right.

Well, he could make it even better. He knew exactly how.

"I love you" he whispered.

After a long stare, she raised her eyebrows and let out a soft half-smile.

"I figured."

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_**Notes:**__ This was for the Guilty Pleasure Fic Exchange, for French Ginger. It took me about ten different attempts, even though I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the characters. It drove me insane. But after a crazy all-nighter, I finally did it. This isn't me at my best, but I'm content about how it turned out. The Malfoys are my favorite canon pairing, for they truly do love each other and I find that to be a highly redeeming quality._

_**French Ginger**__ - Pairing was chosen, prompts and song were used, fluff was achieved. After listening to the song, the thing that really stuck was the theme of not letting people know you care when they're in need for it. It screamed "use me on a fanfic about the Malfoys!" so I stuck to that and built the story around it. I hope you liked it!_

_Special thanks to **Black Rose Blue** for agreeing to beta this piece!_

_Reviewers will get yummy cookies. Thanks._

_-Karyn._


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